“It sounds like he’s put systems in place that work for him. That’s its own kind of order,” said Kindra.
It took me a moment to wrap my head around it, but Kindra was right. Jake’s house was never dirty, and he had more than enough money to pay his bills and provide for himself and Anna. He might not look like the good-on-paper guys I usually dated,but that didn’t mean he wasn’t successful in his own right. I didn’t know what made Jake the way he was, but the fact he’d figured out how to make it work for him was a pretty impressive thing.
“It is.” Then I pictured him in his slouchy shorts and threadbare T-shirts with the cabinet doors hanging open and gave myself a reality check. “But it’s still not a relationship. Can we get back to the spanking?”
“Yes, please,” said Alex. “Give us the details. Hand? Paddle? Were you bent over his lap? Tell us everything.”
Bent over Jake’s lap with his hand on my bare ass and his hard cock pressed against my belly was something I intended to explore, but for now, I told my friends everything, starting with the slutty secretary texts and working my way to Jake holding me in his arms after. I left off the dinner invite and how much I’d wanted to accept it. I wasn’t comfortable sharing that—especially in light of the relationship talk—until I knew how I felt about it.
“It sounds like he knew what he was doing, even down to the aftercare,” said Alex, looking pleased. “So how did it make you feel?”
“Turned all the way on. It was some of the best sex we’ve ever had, and that’s a pretty high bar. What does that mean? I won’t deny I want it—it was my idea—I’m just not sure I’m comfortable with what it says about me. I was never spanked as a child. If I have daddy issues—fuck it, I know I have daddy issues—they don’t run to the corporal punishment kind. So why am I so eager to turn control of my body over to a man?” That was the question that had been bothering me, and I didn’t like any of the answers I’d come up with from Google or on my own. I’d watched my mother twist her life—our lives—around for a man’s approval. That wasn’t something I’d ever let myself do. Was surrendering control really that different?
“It doesn’t have tosayanything. It can simply be something you enjoy.” It wasn’t like Kindra to pick the unexamined option, but here we were.
I gave her a look, and she tipped her head in an infuriatingly knowing manner.
“Do you like being spanked?” I’d love not to be the only one of us with this particular proclivity.
“Sometimes.” Kindra left the single word just hang there without elaborating.
“Okay, but why?” I sounded whiny, another thing I hated.
“The physiology part is probably the easiest to explain. We can start there,” said Alex, jumping in. “Your butt has lots of nerves in an area that’s protected by muscle and fat. Light impact—even harder impact—is unlikely to damage anything other than your skin.”
The way she said damage made me feel dirty and not in a good way, but I kept my mouth shut. Alex had grilled us for years about not “yucking someone’s yum.” Just because it was my yum this time didn’t give me a pass.
“It’s close to your genitals, which amps up the sensitivity. Spanking wakes up the nerves and sends blood to that part of your body. If your head is in the frame of mind to experience it as sexual, your arousal increases. That doesn’t even deal with the endorphin release part. And it’s a pretty accessible kink. No handcuffs or special equipment necessary.”
She leaned back in her chair so the server could set the shrimp remoulade on fried green tomatoes in front of her. I wasn’t a prude by any stretch of the imagination, but I didn’t think I’d ever be as comfortable talking about sex as Alex. She hadn’t really told me anything I hadn’t already read, but hearing her describe it in such a matter-of-fact manner felt reassuring. It gave me permission to like what I liked without worrying about some tie to childhood and humiliation I absolutely wasn’tinterested in. I took a bite of my blackened redfish, feeling more settled about things. And wanting to message Jake to see if he were up for another round. Maybe not slutty secretary but something.
“Are you sure it isn’t a relationship?” asked Meredith. “Your smile doesn’t look like it’s just sex.”
“When was the last time you had earth-shattering sex?” I schooled my face so I wasn’t grinning like an over-eager teenager. My thing with Jake wasn’t a relationship, but denying it to Meredith was likely to make her dig in.
“That’s mean. I can’t remember the last time I had adequate sex.” Meredith loaded her fork with shrimp and grits.
“We need to do something about that so you can smile too.” I thought for a minute. Meredith’s hours at the bakery usually ruled out late nights, but desperate times called for different measures. Not desperate. We weren’t quite there yet. “There’s a benefit for mental health services at the end of the month. Let’s find you a date and see if we can do better than adequate.”
I’d already planned to attend to network for my business, but I had high hopes for my date with Jason Adams. Or if not high, then at least hopes. I’d met Jason through Ford. He was a few years older than me and a few inches taller. A handsome, successful attorney, and very good on paper. It was too soon to know if he was good anywhere else, but optimism was still as easy as cynicism. I fought the momentary whiplash of shifting from thinking about spanking and Jake to good on paper Jason. But even if ordinary dating was the kind of thing we did together, I couldn’t imagine Jake getting dressed up to go to a black tie event.
“I’m on the board of the Hope and Help benefit. I’ve got to miss the gala this year for an academic thing, but you should go. It’s always a good time,” said Kindra.
“I forgot about that. Honeymoon brain.” Alex waved her hand around her head. “Erik’s firm gets a couple of tables. You can come with us. We’ll find you a decent date.” She motioned to me, and I nodded.
“What the hell.” A grin teased Meredith’s lips. “Lack of sleep won’t kill me this one time, at least not as fast as the lack of sex will.”
9
“I’m still not quite sure why you want to do this, but I’m glad you do. You were nominated for a Hopper award, for fuck’s sake. Language, sorry.” On the other end of the phone, the head of Essex’s IT department sounded incredulous, a tone he’d maintained the entire time we’d been talking.
“It’s okay.” I’d never quite gotten used to the deference I got from people in my field. I’d spent so much time as a kid feeling like I couldn’t do anything right—missing deadlines and struggling to keep up with what I was supposed to be doing because my brain got hijacked by an idea that wouldn’t let go. The award nomination came for an algorithm I designed when I was supposed to be working on the coding for the final project for my doctorate. It was the first time I’d felt a real sense of approval for my work. The nomination was tangible validation from the outside world. It changed everything for me, which didn’t stop me from being late for the award ceremony. “I’m helping out a friend.”
“You should have access to everything, but if there’s anything you need, just let me know, and I’ll send it. Coffee, drinks, a pony, whatever. Thanks again, man.” The guy finally paused fora breath, and I heard an amused noise on the other end of the line. “Whoever they are, they must be some friend.”
“She is.” I disconnected and paused for a moment.
That didn’t feel right. Whatever Elena and I were to each other, friends didn’t seem like an accurate description. In some ways, I felt like I knew her pretty well—intimately even, pun intended—but it wasn’t like we’d shared details of our lives. I knew how she liked to be fucked, and I was learning about all the other things she liked me to do to her body. But I didn’t know how many siblings she had or her favorite color. What were her favorite TV shows, or would she rather read?
